Coming Home
by She's an Anarchist
Summary: This story follows six teens in their journey to adulthood. Dolores is a sweet girl from Spain. Nell is a dancer at Medda's. Rosie is the daughter of one of the richest men in America. These girls are about to have an unlikely meeting with each other and three newsies (Skittery, Spot, and Racetrack Higgins) that will change their lives, and their outlook on life forever.
1. The Land of Opportunity

Charles and Juana Viteri were about to become parents to their tenth child, when something went horribly wrong. Charles had been holding his wife's hand while the children watched their mother give birth in their three bedroom town home. Conditions for the Viteri family were not so good. They lived in Spain, but were below so many classes of people. Charles was an employee at a local bank, but it was still not enough to cover more than rent and one meal per day for his family. There were no ways of birth control in 1883, at least none that were legal and available to the people who needed them the most. Charles and Juana had already had to make the sad decision to end their romantic life; they couldn't keep having children, as much as they loved each and every one of them.

That day, though, Charles stopped being cheerful. The moment Juana used up all of her energy and pushed out her child, dying in the process, he lost any love for the crying creature. The midwives pushed the children out of the room, telling the eldest to run for a doctor. One midwife tended to the mother, though she was dead, and the other tended to the baby. As she was cleaning the baby and wrapping her up in whatever rag she could find, the infant announced herself by crying loudly. Charles had been standing their, frozen, until the sound of her crying came. "Get that child out of my sight." he said, and the midwife scurried out of the room with such quickness that she nearly dropped the baby in her arms. Days later, when asked what he wanted his child to be named, he said he didn't care. The midwife named her Dolores. It was taken from the Spanish name of Virgin Mary "Maria de los Dolores", "Mary of sorrows". It was quite fitting for the occasion.

-

It had been five years since the death of Juana. Charles was becoming increasingly violent with his children. The eldest sons; fifteen and fourteen, left the house because of how bad it was. The oldest child of them all, at sixteen, stayed and tended to the younger ones. Oh, did she wish she could leave, though. Dolores was just five years old and already she had seen death. A sickness which had spread across their town claimed four of her siblings two years after her birth. Now only four siblings remained in the house with the other two having left. At sixteen there was Maria, at twelve was Virginia, at nine there was Philip, and at five there was Dolores. Her siblings had taken to calling her "Lolita", another Spanish name which was much less sad.

One night, Charles came home in a rage. He had a gun and his intent was to kill his children, and then himself. They would have never known as they sat at the dinner table, quietly eating what would have been their last meal, if Maria hadn't seen it on him. Quietly, she began to dismiss her siblings to the kitchen. She got herself away, and before they could leave, he started shooting at them. All four ran for their lives through the kitchen exit, some crying, some screaming. He followed them for about a quarter of a mile before he stopped, and shot himself in the head. Nobody looked back to see their last parent. Maria and Virginia cried silently; they were the only two who could still remember how cheerful their father had been, besides the two run away brothers.

After staying in an orphanage for ten years, Dolores was fed up. Her sisters both had married but were unable to take care of her. They did visit her, however. Her brother had run away some time ago, and just like her two other brothers she'd never seen him again. Dolores decided to take a page from their book, and one day she up and left. She had saved all the money she'd earned from her secret job as a seamstress; if anyone found out, she would be forced to pay the orphanage for her expenses. She knew just where she was going, too. To the land of opportunity.

She landed in America after being in a disgusting ship with the other steerage passengers. They were all stuck below deck in one large room like cattle. A man with children had taken pity on her and let her sleep with his family so no unwarranted attention would come her way. She got off the docks at Ellis Island, and after they'd given her the papers she needed, she took a look around the great city. Soon she found her way to Manhattan, and it was absolutely amazing. It was much cleaner than the town she'd lived in back home, though it was still dirty, and it was much bigger, too. Her brown eyes opened wide in amazement as she looked around. Someone bumped into her, startling her out of her excitement. " 'Ey, watch where you'se goin', lady!" A kid with an eye patch and a stack of papers hissed at her. He made to leave but she stopped him.

She wasn't very good with English, but she gestured to his papers and held out a coin. He looked at her as if she had grown two heads all of the sudden. "What are ya tryin' ta pull, lady? I got papes ta sell and I don' need ya offerin' me fake monies. Wait... you'se not from around here, are you?" He paused, pointing in the direction of Ellis Island. "Ellis Island?" he asked, and that she understood. She nodded vigorously. So she wasn't even an English speaker. He couldn't tell what she was; all Europeans looked the same to him. His father had told him that he was a third generation American.

"Come wit me, goil, people in dis city is gonna tear you'se apart if you'se go around, tryin' ta give 'em yer weird coins an' won't speak ta dem. I'm Kid Blink, by da way. What's your name?" he asked, thinking she must either be French or Spanish, since he'd recognize if she was something else. Bumlets was Spanish, he could sort this out if she was, too. If she wasn't, well... He'd find them something else to do. So he took her hand, and as she cried out in her language, he put a finger to his mouth to keep her quiet. This didn't help, and she continued to shout all the way to the newsies' lodge.

-

The boys that were usually quick to sell their papers were all there; Cowboy, Race, Mush, and Bumlets. Thank goodness he was there. "Hey, Blink! You ain't even done yet and you'se brought a girl back here? You ain't gonna have a bed ta sleep in, let alone her, if ya don't get yer butt outside and start carryin' da banner!" Cowboy joked with his friend. The other boys laughed.

"It ain't like dat, Cowboy. Dis goil don't speak no English. I found her wanderin' 'round, bumpin' inta people and tryin' ta buy me papes wit some foreign coin." he looked at Bumlets. "Is she Spanish, like you? Can ya try ta talk to her?" he asked, and Bumlets shrugged, speaking his native tongue to the girl. Lolita gave an audible sigh of relief and responded very quickly in Spanish. They went back and forth before Bumlets nodded and told her he'd explain her situation to the boys.

"She says she just got off a boat. She's from Spain, yeah, and her name is Lolita. She doesn't have nowhere to stay and she's looking for a job as a seamstress or a maid, but I told her she's got to learn a little more English before she can do that. She asked if we knew of anywhere she could stay but I told her everywhere costs money. I figure we can help her out, though, maybe all chip in for a bit for her to have a place to stay, and in a month or so she'll be able to speak enough English to be able to get a job. What do you guys say to that?" Bumlets was the most well spoken out of all of them, ironically because his first language wasn't even English. He was also very tender hearted, and he and Mush probably tied first place for the sweetest of all the Newsies.

Everyone looked at Jack for an answer, and Lolita, following their gaze, gave him a very sad look. She did feel like the lady of sorrows at this moment. Cowboy stared at her for a moment. Her black hair was curly and wild, but it was also very beautiful. Her brown eyes were deep and sad. She held a small bag with whatever belongings she had, and she wore a rosary around her neck. Her dress was a mess, and he couldn't help but take pity on her.

"Alright. I'll talk ta da oders, but she's in for now." Bumlets relayed this back to Lolita, and a huge smile crossed her features as she pulled Jack into a hug. He laughed and patted her gently. "But don't be gettin us in no trouble, you'se here? No funny business." He grinned at her, and Bumlets didn't bother to translate that little bit to the foreign girl.

**Author's Note: Hey! This is my first story in awhile here on , I used to have a different screen name but I lost the e-mail address for it. I look at it as a fresh beginning. So, please R&R, it helps me write faster when I know people are reading it! Also, I obviously do not own the Newsies, nor any historical figures I'll mention in the following chapters. **


	2. The Vanderbilt Family

The newsies had been crazy to think she would be able to learn English in a month, and Bumlets knew that. It had taken him a year to be good with English, but after two months and some hard work they had taught her some basic phrases. "I saw your request in the paper", "I am looking for a job", "I do not know much English, but I am learning", and some other sentences that would help her get a job. Unfortunately, times were tough and it seemed nobody was advertizing for a maid or a seamstress. Snipeshooter suggested she become a newsie, and everyone laughed at that. She could hardly speak English, how could she advertize the headlines?

While they all did like the sweet Spanish girl, some were getting tired of losing their cut so she could sleep there. It had been two months already, and it shocked a lot of them that she wasn't learning quicker. Some of the meaner ones called her stupid behind her back, and then they would laugh and say it didn't matter anyway if they said it to her face because she wouldn't understand it anyway. When Jack caught wind of this, he knew he had to do something to speed up the process. Of course he knew he couldn't make her learn English quickly, but he could try to get her a job. He held a meeting with Racetrack, Bumlets, Skittery and Boots at Tibby's.

"Alright, fellas, as some of you'se know, some of da other newsies are gettin a little tired of helpin' our new friend, Lolita, out. So we gots ta find her a job. I know we'se been avoiding it, 'cause their damn intimidatin', but da Vanderbilts have been lookin' for a maid for about two months now. Dat's a good sign, figurin' that nobody else wants ta work der, either." It wasn't that the Vanderbilts were necessarily bad people, but they were one of the richest families in New York. That intimidated a lot of people, even the newsies. So together the five boys formulated a plan for their new friend.

-

The next day, they all said their goodbye's to Lolita. When she couldn't understand some of them – for she could understand English much better than speaking it – she would look at Bumlets and he would reiterate to her in Spanish. She waved to them, hugging the four she liked best, but Bumlets was coming with her so she didn't need to say good-bye to him. They started walking, and he told her that everything would be fine. She had to remember that he was now her brother as far as these people were concerned, and told her his real name, Inigo, but he jokingly told her he'd have to soak her if she told anyone that. It was their little secret.

Theodore Vanderbilt was known for being a stiff, cold man. He was the last born of his brothers, and while he would be seeing a good amount of money upon his father's death he would not be seeing the Vanderbilt fortune. Nonetheless, his father took great care of him, getting him a great job at the age of seventeen which he'd been able to use to climb up the social latter and earn himself an even better career. With his funds and his father's, he was able to afford his lush mansion and entertainment for his wife and only child, Rose, affectionately called "Rosie". The only people who ever saw his good side were his wife and daughter, but unfortunately it ended there.

He had thrown so many young women out of his house the past two months, ending in them running away in tears, that it hadn't even been funny. Nobody had rang to inquire about their maid's position in two weeks, and his wife was getting fed up with it. They needed another maid, a dressing maid for their soon to be debutant daughter. Luck struck for Lolita for the fact that Mrs. Vanderbilt was also home that Saturday morning as Bumlets knocked on the door. A woman dressed smartly in black opened the door; she was an older woman, probably in her late forties. A maid, definitely, by the look of her clothing. "How may I help you today?"

"Ah, yes, hello. My name is Inigo and this is my sister, Dolores." He used her proper name. "She wanted to apply for the maid's position." The maid looked them up and down and nodded, gesturing for them to come in. She would have offered to take their coats but neither had any – poor souls. She led them into the sitting room and gestured for them to sit side by side in two matching chairs facing a plush sofa.

"One moment." She told them, and then she went off to gather Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt. They came in, and if Lolita had thought the maid was smartly dressed, she had a big surprise coming with Mrs. Vanderbilt. Her dress was absolute gorgeous – it must have been made of silk. It was red, with matching shoes and a deeply cut neckline, just enough so you could see the tops of her breasts. Lolita looked away, blushing deeply. But she seemed like a nice enough woman. He blond hair was pinned neatly in a bun, and she wore a bright smile on her face. She was the center of attention, so much so that Bumlets and Lolita almost forgot to even look at the man. He wore a dull, yet expensive, suit, and a grumpy expression. They exchanged quick glances and then looked away.

"So pleasant to meet you! I am Mrs. Marguerite Vanderbilt, and this is my husband Mr. Theodore Vanderbilt. And you are?" she asked pleasantly.

Lolita knew what to say to that. So she tried very hard to remember each and every word she had been taught. "My name is Dolores, it is very nice to meet you." Her accent was heavy, and it caused Mr. Vanderbilt's eyebrows to raise.

"If I may interject, sir, madam," Bumlets spoke up. "My name is Inigo, I am Dolores's brother. I was sent to America to earn money to bring my family over, and our parents sent Dolores over just two months ago. She does not speak very much English, but she is a very hard worker."

Theodore scoffed but Marguerite gave him a look and he quieted. "Well, perhaps that wouldn't be too much of a problem. You see, we need a maid who will take care of our daughter. She is about to come out into society, and we'll need someone who will wait on her as she needs it. A woman who will wake her up, clean her room, wash her clothes, mend her dresses, and well, anything else she may need. My daughter is fluent in four languages," Mrs. Vanderbilt was now gushing, "She can speak English of course, French, German, and happily, Spanish. So perhaps this won't be too much of a problem. I'll tell you what. You, my dear, will be accepted on a trail bases. If our language barrier presents a problem, you must leave. But otherwise... How does that sound?"

Bumlets reiterated all the information back to Lolita and she nodded happily. "Well, then, I shall take that for a yes." Mrs. Vanderbilt was smiling – happy that she'd finally found a maid for her daughter, who would be coming out into society in six months. "I think it's time you met her, then." Without prompting, the older maid left the room and came back with a lovely young woman. Her hair was blond like her mother's, her face very soft and pale as if it'd never seen sunlight. In fact, she was truly the spitting image of her mother. But she had her father's eyes, deep blue.

"May I present to you Rose Beatrice Vanderbilt," Mrs. Vanderbilt gestured.

Rose took a seat in an empty chair, smoothing down her skirts as she went. She looked at the two new comers, and listened as her mother explained who they were. Dolores, apparently, would be her new maid. She smiled and made the proper greetings. Rose had been pushed to do everything a Vanderbilt should do. She knew history, she knew geography, she spoke four languages, she knew just about every play that Shakespeare and his contemporaries had ever written, and she was up to date on the finest artists and authors of their times. She knew the news, and she knew about politics. She knew when she was allowed to discuss such things, and well, women rarely were allowed to speak about the latter. She was primed to be the perfect wife to some multi millionaire, and her life was set out for her at sixteen before she'd even really had a chance to live.

However, her path of life had taken a quick turn for the better or worse, depending who you are, when she met Dolores and Bumlets. Nobody in the room sensed the change, but it was there. The newsies at Tibby's didn't sense the change, but it was there, and a certain dancer at Medda's didn't sense the change as she practiced her steps for tonight's show – but it was there.

**Author's Note: Waking up to a review was awesome, thank you! So you'll be meeting the third girl in the next chapter. These chapters are basically introductions of the girls in the story. I may also follow Sarah and Cowboy; I'm not sure. Also, this is set in 1899 but a few months before the strike. I don't own newsies or the historical figures mentioned. Theodore Vanderbilt and his children/wife are fictional. If there happens to be a man called Theodore Vanderbilt then he's not of this era anyway, I've looked it up. So... yes, please review! Thank you for reading.**


	3. Medda's

Mary Eleanor and Joseph Conlon were virtually unrecognizable from the time they were children to now. Joseph was now the King of Brooklyn, and nobody, _nobody_ called him Joseph. Just Spot. Mary Eleanor was now referred to as "Nell" and danced at Medda's for a living. Spot and Nell were raised by two loving parents, though nobody would have guessed it by either of their attitudes. Perhaps it was because of their sudden deaths, that their children turned out the way they did. It would have been fair for anyone who knew Betty and Philip Conlon to say they would not have been proud of where their children ended up; one a dancer who showed no shame in presenting herself on the stage while men _watched _her. Of course, she wasn't taking any clothes off, and she wasn't dressing like she belonged in a brothel, but still. The vanity in it! Betty would have simply died. And then, Spot, well. He went around threatening and hurting people. How could their baby ever turn out like that? Yes, anyone who knew Betty and Philip would have said they were better off dead; never having to lay eyes on the horribly, sinful people their children had become.

Mrs. Betty Conlon was a God-fearing woman. She took her children to church every Sunday, where they were well respected in the community as protestant do gooders. Mr. Philip Conlon had a job as a banker, so the family wasn't necessarily poor, just slightly above those who they lived in the slums with. Why, they could afford separate bedrooms for their children and an outfit for each day of the week. Philip taught his son, Joseph, early on that he had to work hard for what he had. There were not shortcuts in the world. Betty taught her daughter all about being a good girl, and told her one day she would meet a fine man to take care of her. Joseph and Mary Eleanor were the perfect little children. They never complained, they ate all their dinner, they never acted up, and they always said their prayers at night before bed.

One day, though, all that changed. Mama had come down with something nasty. So nasty that daddy was sleeping on the sofa and told his children not to go in the room with their mother. A nurse was there to handle that. She had something to cover her face, and she took food in to the woman, but she was always quick to get out of there. Soon, though, their daddy joined their mama in the bedroom, and they were told at tender ages; just eight and seven; that their mama and papa wouldn't make it much longer. The state would take their house and put them into the Brooklyn home for girls and boys. The children were told to pack up their things, and like the good children they were, they did. They were told they wouldn't be able to say good bye to their parents, though they wouldn't understand until much later why that was. Their parents had TB, something that people had been afraid of before it even had a proper name and simply was know as "consumption".

Joseph immediately rebelled, leaving the strict boys and girls home in favor of the streets. The hardest part was probably leaving his sister, but he told her they'd always have Brooklyn, and they wouldn't be away from one another for long. Never leave Brooklyn, he told her. And she never did. Not until she was thirteen and sent away to a girls' only home in the Bronx, because it wasn't appropriate for her to be sleeping in the same building as boys anymore. That's what they'd told her, at least. That was when she'd ran away. The homes were awful, and the one in Bronx was even worse. She received beatings and one meal a day, unless she was "bad". She found herself in Manhattan one day, completely lost. She knew, though, that Brooklyn was where she'd belonged. Her quest for Brooklyn stopped momentarily when she came across Irving Hall. It was beautiful, and the dancers... well, she went up to Medda, the owner, that day and insisted on a job. And she'd gotten one, after showing some of her skills in dancing. Medda declared her a natural on the spot.

It wasn't until six months after that, sleeping in the streets and stealing her food in the meantime, did she really get to go on stage in front of everyone. That was when she first got paid, and when two other girls told her they needed a room mate. She asked where they lived, and when they responded Brooklyn, she was more than happy to join in. That was how she'd found out that her brother was the King of Brooklyn, so she played a little prank on him. She found some of his cronies and told them the Princess of Brooklyn requested an audience with the King, her brother. That'd pissed him off, as she knew it would, until he realized it was his Mary Eleanor. Her girls were the ones who told her to drop her saintly name and instead dubbed her "Nell". Spot had picked the name himself.

They had been pretty close since that meeting, and spent plenty of time together. Anyone who messed with her was automatically dealt with, and soon it was learned that you simply didn't mess with Nell Conlon, just like you didn't mess with Spot Conlon. Three years later and her brother is seventeen, she's sixteen. He still runs the city like he did three years ago, surprising people who judge him on his height with his strength. Nell keeps dancing at Medda's, still living with her dancing girls in their one room apartment in Brooklyn. Her life didn't really change, not until one day she would come to remember as the beginning of the rest of her life.

She sat in her dressing room, looking at her red curls carefully in the mirror before applying a thick layer of red lipstick. Her dress is all black, and they're having a special night for the newsies. They were on strike; something she'd been against her brother doing at the off, but he did his own thing. Her dress was low cut, something he was against her wearing; but like him, she did her own thing. There were a lot of boys out there – some of the Manhattan boys. She grinned at herself in the mirror. Hopefully, the Manhattan boys didn't look like a bunch of baboons like the Brooklyn newsies. And hopefully they were a bit smarter, too. It was no wonder why her brother was the king of them; they were complete idiots. Spot had the only brain among them. But they sure were good for soaking people, and she did owe them a lot, she thought soberly.

-

It had been six months since Lolita had come into the Vanderbilt household. She had been listening to English almost non-stop, and that had really helped her along. She was able to talk with people on the street now, hold conversations, and when she got lost people knew enough of the context of the conversation to help her out. Rosie was the one she had to thank for all this, of course. At first they sort of ignored each other, probably for a month. But then one day Lolita had been crying in Rosie's room, and well, that just broke all the tension they had. Rosie and Lolita had quickly become the best of friends, and while they came from vastly different backgrounds, it was easy to see they weren't all that different from one another. They were both lonely in this world.

Today, Lolita wanted Rosie to meet her other friends. Occasionally, Lolita still had lunch with these boys. They had invited her here tonight and she'd asked if she could bring a friend. Some of the boys had made jokes, _as long as she's cute, sure!_ But in the end, they'd said yes. "I can't believe you're friends with the newsies. They've been causing quite the scandal. It's terrific, isn't it, that we're meeting them? My father would be so unhappy." Rosie said the last part a little too happily for the context, but Lolita was quickly learning that Rosie liked to get attention from her father, and with him being so busy at work... the only attention was bad attention.

"Yes, they are wonderful men. Very splendid." Lolita smiled at her friend, who had loaned her a dress of yellow for the event. She was still getting a handle on the language, and some things she simply refused to learn. For instance, the English (or American in this case) practice of slapping their words together – do not into don't – how utterly lazy! And she couldn't keep a handle on all of the different ways to say do not or were not, or whatever else could be turned into a contraction. "Thank you again for letting me wear this. There is... the boy I told you about, he will be here tonight." She was smiling shyly, and Rosie giggled excitedly.

"You mean the boy from Brooklyn? Oh my goodness, I cannot believe I'm going to meet him! He sounds so handsome. Do you think he likes you, too?"

"I do not like him! I never said I liked him," Lolita was blushing terribly now, and Rosie laughed. "He has been very kind to me, whenever I have seen him. Perhaps that means he does? I do not know, I cannot tell with him. He is so... odd. Men are odd." she added, simply.

"Yes, men are odd, Lolita, in your country, in mine. There's no difference between us in that department," Rosie giggled once more and linked arms with Lolita after running her hands over her brown dress and smoothing it. They walked into Irving Hall to a beautiful voice singing; that was Medda, no doubt, Lolita whispered to her friend. Lolita looked around, confused for a moment, before she heard a familiar, Italian voice.

"Hey der, Lolita! And hey, is dis yer friend? You shoulda brought her earlier, Lo. What's yer name, darlin'?" Racetrack was grinning ear to ear at his friend's presence, and her decision to bring a beautiful friend along with her. He'd pulled his hat off his head, a practice he stopped doing for Lolita – she was a friend now. But this new girl was, well a lady still.

Rosie looked around for the voice, and when she spotted the holder, she felt as if time had just stopped. She was usually very eloquent with people she had only just met, but for some reason her throat felt very dry and her hands were clammy. Her heart was beating a lot faster than normal, or, well maybe she was just imagining it. What was wrong with her?

Apparently Lolita was thinking the same thing, because she stood on her friend's foot to get her to stop staring and smiled at Race, "Yes, this is Rosie. She is the daughter of the family I am working for."

"A Vanderbilt? No way!" Race laughed a bit, but then when he realized she wasn't joking his eyes widened. This girl right here was probably worth more than anyone in the joint – monetarily speaking, of course - "Oh, well, it's uh, it's very nice ta meet you, my lady." He turned on his best charm, taking her hand and kissing it. He was rewarded with a smile. "May I escort de two ladies to der seats?" he asked, putting his cap back on and holding out both of his arms, which each girl took. He was pretty excited to tell his friends, so when he came up to Skittery, Spot, Jack, Sarah, Bumlets and Boots and said proudly, "We have a Vanderbilt in da house, gentlemen, and lady," he winked at Sarah who waved him off as if swatting a fly, but she smiled back, only teasing.

"A Vanderbilt, c'mon, Race, none of yer jokes now." Skittery said, obviously in one of his nasty moods.

Rosie had found her voice, apparently. "Well, that's not very nice, Mr...?" She paused for his name, and a nice boy answered for her.

"His name is Skittery. This is Spot, Cowboy, Sarah, Bumlets, and I'm Boots." he grinned at her.

"Thank you, Mr. Boots," she said, thinking with the exception of "Sarah", they all had odd names. Her eyes only stayed a half a second longer on Spot than they did anyone else; her friend had good taste! "Anyway, Mister Skittery, I am indeed Rose Vanderbilt. Is that anyway to treat a lady?"

Skittery's mouth opened a bit as she spoke, firstly because most ladies didn't talk to him like that and secondly because, well, if she really was who she said she was... wow. He closed it, about to speak, only to be interrupted by someone he knew from a distance.

"Dammit, Spot," A girl came over, "One of the girls ruined my dress... stepped right on it while I was trying to put it on. None of those so called ladies knows how to sew."

Rosie and Sarah spoke at the same time, "Lolita knows how to sew, we can come back and fix your dress up for you if you want." She gestured to Lolita, and offered her up in hopes that they could find out why this girl was so familiar with Spot.

Sarah had also offered to help, so Nell nodded. "Okay, the three of you, well thanks. I'd love if you could help me. But it's gotta be quick or I'll miss my performance." She ushered them back with her, and Rosie tried her hardest not to look back at the handsome Italian boy that had made her heart go crazy just a few moments ago.

-

**Author's Note:** **Okay, so that was a lot! But I wanted to get them all in one place at one time. I decided I might have Sarah and Jack in the background a little, because they're adorable, and yeah... The next chapters shouldn't be so crammed! Let me know how I'm doing, I've really appreciated everyone's feedback so far!**


	4. The Party

"So how do you know Spot?" Rosie asked, looking around the crowded dressing room. There were two vanities crammed in a space the size of a closet. She sat on the chair of one of them while Sarah and Lolita tried to mend the dress.

"He's my brother." Nell said, looking at herself in the mirror. "Not sure why you'd care, though, I saw you making eyes at that Italian boy. Name's Racetrack, for future reference. The boys call him that because he blows all his dough at the Racetracks." she shrugged.

Rosie look taken aback, and she let out a nervous spout of laughter. "I was not making eyes at him." she insisted, as if the very idea were ridiculous. Her blush told them all the story, though, and the three other girls broke out into their own laughter.

"Oh, it's okay, sweetie," Sarah responded. "I'm just glad you're not another girl after Jack. Honestly, the other boys are fine enough. Why can't someone change it up and look at them?" She asked, "Ah, and I think it's fixed!" she stood up, admiring her handiwork.

"Great, just in time." Nell said, pulling up her dress. "Hey, guys, there's going to be a party afterward at the Brooklyn Newsies' house. It'll be fun... we're bringing some moonshine." she grinned suggestively, powdering her face one last time before she was up.

"Oh, darn. Mom and Pop will want me back. But I wish I could go. Keep an eye on Jack for me, will you?" Sarah asked, before slipping out to take her seat with her boyfriend.

"You can count us in." Rosie said, before she could think of the consequences, causing Lolita's eyes to go big. "Break a leg!" She wished her newly made friend luck and pulled Lolita out of the room, who was just about to say that she didn't think moonshine was such a good idea. They joined the boys, finding the two seats at the end open. Spot was in the third to last seat, and Rosie pushed Lolita so she would be sitting next to him. Both girls tried to suppress their giggles.

"So what brings you and Miss. Vanderbilt to an after party? She didn't exactly seem da type, and neither do you, sweets." Spot joked, bringing out some Whiskey he'd stolen for this very night and passing it around. Lolita refused, but watched Rosie cautiously; she was taking drinks whenever the bottle was passed to her. Lolita didn't know too much about alcohol, except that it made people stupid. Drinking more probably made one even more stupid.

"Ah... yes." Lolita tried to keep the furious blush off her face. She could see Rosie talking to Racetrack, no doubt making a fool of herself. But she was too busy worrying about Spot. "Rose is coming out into society... I have no idea why she chooses this lifestyle, but she does." She nodded, trying to keep an eye on her friend and on Spot. "Señor, is your friend the safest to leave my mistress with?" She wasn't sure how to ask without insulting Racetrack.

The sandy haired boy looked over at Rose and Racetrack. He raised an eyebrow; good for him. "Oh, yeah, he's a perfect gentleman. No newsie would take advantage of a goil like dat, or we'd all soak 'im. I know Racetrack feels the same way." he paused, "What's your name, goily? I'm Spot, just in case ya didn't hear." he said with a smirk on his face.

"I am Lolita," she said, offering her hand to him. "I met your sister earlier today, she is very lovely." Lolita tried to make conversation, when they heard a crash. Nell, who was a little tipsy, had fallen into the window, cutting herself terribly.

"Oh, shit!" Spot said, getting up right away to look after his sister. "Lolita... go get help. The closest doctor is three blocks away." he said, trying to pull his sister up without hurting her. "Alright, alright, everyone who doesn't need ta be here, get out. Spot, Jack, Skits stay. Jack – go wit Lolita, I don't know what I was thinkin'. Rose, Race – get rid of dese bottles. Skittery, make up a bed in da quarantine room ta put her in." he said. They wouldn't be in too much trouble having liquor, but the good doctor was known for making a big fuss over nothing.

-

Rose had never been told what to do before; she looked at Nell, who had a nasty cut in her hair, and back to Lolita, who had rushed out the door for help. She was about to follow her when Spot seemed to see reason. How could he have sent a girl out in Brooklyn alone at midnight? She followed Racetrack's lead and grabbed a pillowcase, putting all the empty bottles in and screwing on the empty caps of the half full or full bottles and putting them underground where Race had found a loose floorboard. She was quite dizzy, but she was insistent on doing her job.

She didn't know how much time had passed, because she had blacked out. She found herself in the bathroom stall, only woken up by the light shining in and a boy looking at her as if she had grown six heads. She put a hand to her head, trying to remember what happened. Then she blushed. Oh, gosh, she had made a fool of herself! She told Race how handsome he was, and she'd even kissed him! And then Nell, she'd gotten hurt... Rose was cleaning up bottles and then she'd ended up in here somehow. One look in the toilet told her she'd vomited, and she did so again because of the smell and the look and the sudden onset of embarrassment.

The boy called for Spot and the leader showed up, looking at the girl who spilled out whatever she had left. "Der you are. We thought we lost Miss. Vanderbilt and her daddy would have all of ours heads." He grinned. "Your pretty little maid will be worried sick, but I told her to sleep in your room, dat way your parents shouldn't find out." he said. "No offense, doll, but you gotta get outta here. It's about six and you'se gonna see a bunch of naked men in about t'irty minutes."

"Wait... but... Nell? Is she okay? Did you have someone walk Lolita home? Brooklyn and lower Manhattan are dangerous! And... Oh, gosh, Racetrack." She put a hand to her head in embarrassment, wishing she could just disappear.

"Nell's fine. Da Doc had to give her stitches... though, had her drink alcohol to numb da pain. She'll be fine, able to dance in a week or so. I personally walked Miss. Lolita back to your house, and Racetrack is none the wiser about your incident, but seriously, you gots ta go."

**Notes: You'll have to see about Nell and Skittery. XD I know this chapter was short, but ah well. Also, thanks to Alice (ForeverYoungForeverLostGirls ) for whatever Spanish I used in this chapter and all chapters to come. As always, I do not own the newsies, I do not own any historical people, and I love all your comments! **


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